


Blackout

by sabinelagrande



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: kink_bingo, Drabble Collection, F/M, Kinky, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 little stories about Charles, or How Charles Xavier Fucked His Way Around the World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

**historical roleplay**

"Help!" Raven shrieks, doing her best impression of a damsel in distress, and Charles has no choice but to storm the castle. It's for her, but it's also for him, for the funny, twisted up feeling in his stomach when he thinks about saving her.

But she's free now, the evil dragon defeated. "This time, I'll save you," she says, pecking him on the lips, and he finds it hard to find the down side in that.

 

 **sleepy / unconscious**

Raven comes into his room sometimes; at first it was during the rain or the lightning, at first it was innocent, but now they're too old to pretend anymore.

His bed is soft and warm, but it's better with her in it, because she's soft and warm too; he wakes up to the feeling of her lips against his, her hands sliding up his chest under his t-shirt. Their kisses are slow, languorous, and both of them drift off like that, in between one and the next, holding each other.

 

 **gender play**

Her new form flips across her body, from the top of her head and downwards, and now she's tall and lanky; she cards her hand through her short brown hair, the way she does when she's trying to get used to wearing someone new.

He hadn't known whether or not it would make a difference, not when he knew she was in there, but his hands shake as he reaches for her, the way they've never shook before.

"Is this what you wanted?" she says, her voice deep and soft, and he can only nod.

 

 **caning**

When Charles finally comes home with marks, Raven finds it absolutely fascinating. It feels very odd, letting her take down his pants and run her curious fingers over the welts; it also feels too good to stop.

 

 **wet, messy, dirty**

It's pouring outside when they leave the bar, and by the time they reach her car, they're both drenched. That doesn't stop her from pushing Charles up against it, kissing him wildly. The rain is trickling down their faces, and his hand tangles in her wet hair as he holds her close. Steam is rising from the pavement, from their bodies, but neither of them care, too caught up in feeling.

 

 **worship**

Nebbish is a good word to describe the young man Charles takes home that night; from the outside, he's sure it looks like a pity thing, but that's not it. Charles does it because he's kind of fascinating, handsome or not.

He's so fascinating that Charles lays him down in his bed and tries to figure him out, cataloging his responses, lavishing attention on him, ignoring his own needs just to get to the heart of it, what makes him tick.

He doesn't really learn anything, but he feels like it's taught him something anyway.

 

 **wildcard - consent play**

Charles thinks maybe he's enjoying this a little too much; he's afraid he doesn't make a particularly good victim, not when he's mostly just thinking about how soon he's going to be allowed to come.

Beautiful women do that to him.

He must be doing a good enough job; she's looking down at him with a wicked look on her face. She smacks him sharply, and that helps some, makes it look easier to look legitimately worried. "Let me go," he says, squirming underneath her, wanting nothing of the sort.

She just laughs, catching his hands, holding him down. "No."

 

 **bodily secretions**

When he lifts his face away from her, there's wetness all over his chin, practically dripping off him; it's so intensely hot that he leans down again, wanting more.

 

 **masters doms slaves & subs**

Charles has been a lot of things, but he's never been a gift before.

The recipient, so to speak, is a perfectly ordinary looking man, just sitting on the couch reading a book, though he does drop to his knees when his mistress enters. She walks over, ruffling his hair, and he gazes up at her with undisguised worship in his eyes.

"I said I'd bring you back a present if you were good," she says, and he looks at Charles, absolutely delighted.

He could stand to be looked at like that a little more often. It gives him ideas.

 

 **domestic / tradesman kink**

Charles doesn't do the rough trade thing, not as a rule; it's not that he has anything against it, mind, but it just rarely comes up.

As he watches the neighbor's roof being repaired, he thinks missing a serious opportunity.

 

 **humiliation (verbal)**

"You're such a-" Raven pulls at her blond hair, her annoyance overrunning her words- "You're a _slut_ , Charles. Is there anyone in this town that you _haven't_ fucked?" she says, and they both know there's an _except me_ hanging at the end of that sentence.

He squirms under the weight of her glare; he doesn't know how to tell her that maybe if she used that voice on him a little more, he wouldn't be quite so compelled to look elsewhere.

 

 **leather / latex / rubber**

The first time Charles ever lays eyes on Erik, he gets the most inappropriate erection of his entire life.

The wetsuit is entirely forgotten in the aftermath, which really is quite a shame.

 

 **food**

Charles has this vision in his head of Erik as an ascetic; it fits with the life he's had to lead, country to country, giving up everything to hunt down Shaw.

That goes a little haywire the first time Erik insists on going out for a really good meal. They're barely into the salad before Erik, well, he moans over it, his eyes fluttering back at the taste.

Charles has been with people who didn't make noises that amazing during sex.

"Shall we have dessert?" he asks, hoping very much that Erik will say yes.

 

 **washing / cleaning**

The whole thing with Erik started with a fight about the shower.

It was a long day on the road, the bad kind, the kind with rain and high winds, and they were exhausted and snippy with each other. And all Charles wanted was to use the shower first, which was all Erik wanted, and somehow this turned into shouting while throwing clothes off, as these things do. And then they were naked, together, and wet, and Charles poured the shampoo over Erik's head out of sheer spite, and it all went downhill from there.

In a good way.

 

 **bodies and body parts**

Having a threeway with Erik and Angel strikes him, at the time, as the most natural and logical thing in the world. Her wings flutter against his chest as he slides into her, and he kisses them gently, wanting to see if they're as fragile as they look; it only makes her press back against him, brushing them against his face.

Erik looks at him over her shoulder, and Charles knows he's thinking about the same thing; he trails a finger down one of them, just for his benefit, and he grins.

 

 **temperature play**

In Boca Raton, they have an extremely disappointing interview with a young man who can control temperature; not only have they seriously overestimated his powers, but he also wants nothing to do with their project.

He is, however, very charming, and the heat of his hand as he strokes Charles's cock is indescribably wonderful; combined with the icy fingers trailing down his spine, it's a wonder Charles lasts any time at all.

 

 **humiliation (situational)**

Erik shifts uncomfortably beside him, and Charles smiles. Charles has never seen him blush before now, wasn't entirely sure that he could; apparently all it took was a pair of rather frilly panties and a night out.

"We'll have another round," Charles tells the bartender, and Charles can _hear_ how hard Erik is trying not to groan.

 

 **sensation play**

"Come on," Armando says, grinning, handing Charles a baseball bat. "Hit me as hard as you can."

Charles looks at him skeptically; this isn't the first time one of their prospectives has said something like this, but last time they knocked a poor fellow out.

Having a glass jaw is not a special ability.

But Charles shrugs and brings it down as hard as he can; it bounces right off.

"It feels so cool, you have no idea," Armando says, and the excitement just radiates off him; Charles can feel the overwhelming rush behind it, and he wants more.

 

 **danger**

He watches Erik choking Emma with a sick feeling in his stomach; it isn't right, it isn't safe, it isn't what they came here for, it isn't what the good guys do.

He lays awake in bed that night, wondering what it would be like if Erik did that to _him._

 

 **scars / scarification**

Erik is oddly fascinated by the long, jagged scar on his hip, even though it's not interesting in the least; he fell off a swingset as a child, in the middle of doing something particularly stupid. It doesn't seem to stop Erik from wanting to sweep his fingers down it, press into it when he holds Charles's hips still.

Charles doesn't touch Erik's scars. He knows their stories; he doesn't want to hear them again.

 

 **painplay (other)**

Wildly, Charles wonders if a bed frame is like a paper clip; he wonders if Erik can ever set it right again, now that he's wrapped it around Charles's body, the rough surface of the wrought iron scraping across Charles's skin. He wonders if the housekeeping staff will come to change the sheets in the morning and know what happened, know exactly how Erik held him down and made it _hurt_ , the metal biting at him.

Mostly he wonders what he would do if anyone knew how much he wanted it.

 

 **body alteration / injury**

The first time with Hank is a very poor idea.

Hank is very recently bright blue and Charles is very recently crippled, and neither have come close to accepting that fact. It's too much too fast, and all it results in is a lot of _please don't_ and _no, let me_ and _would you just_.

And then it's done, and Hank just looks stricken, enough so that Charles can't decide whether to comfort him or throw him out.

In the end he does neither; Hank stammers something and leaves, and Charles just stares at the ceiling.

 

 **sex toys (non-penetrating)**

It takes a cheap wooden back scratcher for Charles to really appreciate it, the way things have moved under his skin, his body rallying, retaliating by shifting all the good spots upwards. She rakes it over his chest, his neck, finding out places that he swears didn't make him sweat and jerk like this before.

He repays her in kind- rather effusively, as it happens- but it still doesn't feel like she really knows how grateful he is.

 

 **silk, velvet, feathers, furs**

He and Hank, they come around to it slowly, many months after Cuba. He's different, so different now, and Hank's fur stroking gently over his skin feels absolutely amazing, in a way he probably wouldn't have appreciated before.

The fact that Hank's fur extends all the way onto his penis is something Hank could have told him in advance, but Charles is good enough not to mention it.

 

 **penance / punishment**

It's years later, and it's fitting that they have to do this in another nameless hotel, some place where no one will look for them.

Erik is kneeling on the floor, shirtless, and Charles reaches out, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. "This isn't for what you did to me," he says. "This is for everything that came after."

Erik nods, swallowing hard; he picks up the heavy flogger, bringing it down hard on his own back.

"One," Charles says.


End file.
